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This—this is sorrow's deadliest curse,
Take wealth-I know its paltry worth;
Take honour-it will pass away; Take power-I scorn the bounded earth;
Take pomp—its trappings soon decay: But spare me, grant me Pity's tear, To sooth my woe, and dew my bier.
PERSUASIONS TO LOVE.
Think not, 'cause men flatt'ring say,
Nor let brittle beauty make
which now is Cupid's nest, Will prove his grave; and all the rest
Will follow; in the cheek, chin, nose,
For when the storms of time have mov'd
In slumbers of midnight the sailor boy lay,
And visions of happiness danc'd o'er his mind. He dreamt of his home, of his dear native bow'rs, And pleasures that waited on Life's merry
morn ; While mem'ry each scene gaily covered with
flow'rs, And restor'd ev'ry rose, but secreted its thorn.
Then Fancy her magical pinions spread wide,
And bade the young dreamer in ecstasy rise ;Now far, far behind him the green waters glide,
And the cot of his forefathers blesses his eyes.
The jessamine clambers in flow'r o'er the thatch,
And the voices of lov'd ones reply to his call.
A father bends o'er him with looks of delight;
His cheek is bedew'd with a mother's warm
And the lips of the boy in a love-kiss unite
The heart of the sleeper beats high in his breast,
Joy quickens his pulses, his hardships seem o'er; And a murmur of happiness steals through his rest
O God! thou hast bless'd me, I ask for no
Ah! whence is that flame which now glares on his
eye? Ah! what is that sound which now bursts on his
ear? 'Tis the lightning's red gleam, painting hell on the
sky! 'Tis the crashing of thunders, the groan of the
He springs from his hammock, he flies to the deck,
Amazement confronts him with images direWild winds and mad waves drive the vessel a wreckThe masts fly in splinters—the shrouds are on
Like mountains the billows tremendously swell
In vain the lost wretch calls on Mercy to save; Unseen hands of spirits are ringing his knell, And the Death-Angel flaps his broad wing o'er
Oh! Sailor Boy, woe to thy dream of delight!
In darkness dissolves the gay frost-work of bliss Where now is the picture that fancy touch'd bright, Thy parents' fond pressure, and Love's honied
Ob, Sailor Boy! Sailor Boy! never again
Shall home, love, or kindred, thy wishes repay; Unbless'd, and unhonour'd, down deep in the main Full many a fathom, thy frame shall decay.
No tomb shall e'er plead to Remembrance for thee, Or redeem form or fame from the merciless
surgeBut the white foam of waves shall thy winding
sheet be, And winds in the midnight of winter thy dirge!
On a bed of sea-green flower thy limbs shall be laid;
Around thy white bones the red coral shall grow; Of thy fair yellow locks, threads of amber be made,
And every part suit to thy mansion below.
Days, months, years, and ages shall circle away,
And still the vast waters above thee shall roll; Frail short-sighted mortals their doom must obey
Ob, Sailor Boy! Sailor Boy! peace to thy soul!
THE SOLDIER'S DREAM.
Our bugles sung truce; for the night-cloud had
lower'd, And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky; And thousands had sunk on the ground over
power'd, The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die.
When reposing that night on my pallet of straw,
By the wolf-scaring faggot that guarded the slain, At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw;
And twice ere the cock- s-crow I dreamt it again :
Methought, from the battle-field's dreadful array,
Far, far I had roam'd on a desolate track,